


four ways to fall asleep

by precious_red



Series: FAITH/FULL [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 2014 Spring Interhigh, Canon Compliant, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, don't need to read the first fic in the series to follow this one!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/precious_red/pseuds/precious_red
Summary: Shinsuke follows Aran into the apartment, doing his best to be polite and not examine the room, prying into Aran’s life.Aran, of course, notices. “You’re allowed to be nosy, you know?” he says, amused.“Still can’t get anythin’ past you, huh?”“Definitely not,” Aran laughs. He’s wearing a fond smile and his Tachibana Red Falcons jacket, standing in the center of the small studio room. In the warm light of the apartment at night, the jacket’s color looks indistinguishable from Inarizaki’s maroon. Shinsuke’s heart feels like a candle flame rocked by a sudden breath. It’s been doing that a lot lately, where Aran is concerned.Shinsuke stays over at Aran's apartment to watch Inarizaki during the 2014 Spring Interhigh. There is only one bed.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Ojiro Aran
Series: FAITH/FULL [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083725
Comments: 8
Kudos: 93
Collections: Aran Ship Week 2020





	four ways to fall asleep

**Author's Note:**

> there were some arankita hints in FAITH/FULL & i have no self-control so i decided to write their soft side of this story! 
> 
> you do not have to have read FAITH/FULL to follow this fic! the tl;dr is FAITH/FULL follows inarizaki through the 2014 spring interhigh (miya twins are third years, atsumu is captain and osamu vice captain). kita is in town to watch the tournament and is crashing with aran, who conveniently lives in the city! (more FAITH/FULL context in endnotes if u want)

The moment the door to Aran’s apartment closes behind them, Shinsuke and Aran lock eyes like two cowboys preparing to quick draw their guns in a standoff.

“I’m the guest, so I should take the floor,” Aran says, before Shinsuke can.

Shinsuke raises an eyebrow. Aran is unphased.

“That’s what you were gonna say, right? Well too bad, my Ma taught me the rules and the rules say guests take the bed.”

“Aran, that’s not a rule,” Shinsuke replies.

“My apartment, my rules,” Aran shrugs in response, “Now come on, we should get to sleep soon. I’ve gotta be up _so_ early to help supervise morning practice.”

“You did agree to that,” Shinsuke points out, following Aran into the apartment.

Aran rolls his eyes, “Not all of us have magical saying-no-to-Atsumu powers like you Shinsuke. Besides,” his face softens, “I’m excited to see how they’re doin’, even if I have to wake up early for it.”

Shinsuke follows Aran into the apartment, doing his best to be polite and not examine the room, prying into Aran’s life. He only had a brief few minutes here earlier in the day to drop his bag off before the two of them headed to the Inari shrine to meet up with the twins. This is the first time he’s properly seen where, how, Aran lives now.

Aran, of course, notices. “You’re allowed to be nosy, you know?” he says, amused.

“Still can’t get anythin’ past you, huh?”

“Definitely not,” Aran laughs. He’s wearing a fond smile and his Tachibana Red Falcons jacket, standing in the center of the small studio room. In the warm light of the apartment at night, the jacket’s color looks indistinguishable from Inarizaki’s maroon. Shinsuke’s heart feels like a candle flame rocked by a sudden breath. It’s been doing that a lot lately, where Aran is concerned.

Permission to pry in hand, Shinsuke looks his fill as Aran goes to get something from his bag. The apartment is smaller than Aran’s childhood bedroom but feels bigger for a lack of furniture. The coffee table is pushed to a corner to make space on the floor for one of them to sleep, presumably. It’s covered by a stack of Volleyball Monthly issues that spread out into a fan when Aran moved it. Aran’s bed is placed beneath the window, neatly made up— Shinsuke doesn’t think he’s ever seen that before— with the silly Ritz Cracker plushie the twins bought him as a graduation gift resting on the pillow. The walls of the apartment are covered with pictures and posters, placed without particular care for pattern. This at least is familiar— Aran’s childhood bedroom looked like this too, a collage of memory, idols, dreams. Shinsuke once asked how Aran decided where to put new additions, how he could tell if a photo was significant enough to make it onto the wall. In response, Aran had given him one of those looks that suggested he was trying to decide if Shinsuke was a robot, or some kind of spirit maybe.

“Do you still drink this brand of tea before bed?” Aran asks, standing up with a box of green tea, still wrapped in plastic.

“Yeah, I do,” Shinsuke says with a steady smile and a flame flicker heartbeat, “But you didn’t need to go and buy some, I bring my own with me when I travel.”

At this, Aran chuckles and ducks his head. “Right, should’ve figured. Well, loose leaf tea tastes better anyways, and in case you miscalculated the number of bags you’ll need…” he trails off. He’s nervous too, the tremor in the air between them not just a product of Shinsuke’s imagination then.

Shinsuke takes a deep breath, reminds himself to slow down, observe, be thoughtful about this.

“You know better than to doubt my math,” Shinsuke says.

Aran startles a laugh at this. “Well alright Mr. University-Student, we get it, you’re good at school. No need to rub it in! Go shower— I’ll make tea and get the floor ready.”

When Shinsuke walks back out into the main room, towel draped around his neck to keep his damp hair from getting his shirt wet, he sees the floor covered by some thick blankets and Aran snuggled within them, looking up at Shinsuke with a cup of hot tea in his hands and a challenge in his eyes.

“You know I’ve still gotta do my nighttime stretches,” Shinsuke says.

“You can do ‘em on the bed,” Aran replies.

“Your bed isn’t big enough.”

“Yes it is, I know your routine. You’re just tryin’ to get me to move so you can slip in here and refuse to move.”

Shinsuke had in fact been planning to pull such a move. Still, he keeps a straight face at being called out so easily.

“Aran,” Shinsuke says, crossing his arms and using his captain-voice.

Unfortunately, Aran is immune.

“Shinsuke,” Aran replies evenly in co-captain-voice.

Shinsuke sighs, settles on the bed, and starts his nighttime stretches. He’s going to have to be craftier tomorrow to force Aran to take the bed.

“Say, Shin,” Aran asks while Shinsuke is holding the child's pose, debating the merits of sliding into the blankets on the floor naked tomorrow night. On one hand, Aran definitely wouldn’t try to force him out of there to trade places knowing Shinsuke wasn’t wearing clothes. On the other hand, this tactic would most certainly disrupt the delicate blooming _something_ they’ve got between them. Too risky— he’ll have to figure something else out.

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about where you’ll end up? Like the place, I mean?”

The Hyogo countryside. His grandmother’s farm in Asago. Under a baby blue morning sky, in the verdant green of a rice paddy. Boots sunk into the soft muck of fertile mud.

A two hour drive from Kobe. A four hour drive to Nagoya.

“Where’s this comin’ from?” Shinsuke asks.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I was just thinkin’— Atsumu seemed pretty sure about choosing the Jackals after he graduates when I was talkin’ to him earlier. He won’t say it, but I’m pretty sure it’s mostly ‘cause he wants to stay close to home.”

Shinsuke nods. “Yeah, Osamu mentioned that he’s probably going to stay in Osaka for college.”

“Right, I guess it just got me wonderin’ how the twins chose so easily, what home would be. It’s a big decision, right?”

It is. Shinsuke has thought it through himself multiple times. The logic usually goes like this: First, his granny is getting too old to keep up the farm on her own. Second, his parents can’t move back while his younger brother is still in school. Third, his older sister just got an excellent job offer in Kyoto. Fourth, all of his cousins have long since scattered and started lives in other parts of Japan. The obvious conclusion then, is that Shinsuke’s future home will be his grandmother’s farm.

He understands this, looks forward to it even. He remembers sitting in his grandfather’s lap as his grandfather drove the rickety old combine harvester through the fields, a methodical sweep of one row, then the next, then the next. It’s simple, thorough work. It will be a good life.

Shinsuke sits up out of the child’s pose and glances at Aran. His friend is lying on his back, hands under his head, head turned to watch Shinsuke. Aran smiles easily when he notices Shinsuke looking back.

“How did your family decide?” Shinsuke asks, getting out of bed to reheat the tea Aran set out for him earlier.

“Mmm… my Ma makes it sound simple whenever I ask. She says that the offer my Pa got to teach here was a really good one, and I was so young that it wasn’t a huge disruption in my life. But, I mean my Ma didn’t have any family or friends here like Pa did. Plus, being Black here certainly isn’t easy either.”

The microwave beeps, Shinsuke takes his cup out and breathes in the steam.

Aran chuckles. “But whenever I bring any of that up, she just laughs at me and says: ‘Well, I was in love.’” His eyes meet Shinsuke’s in the dark, then dart away just as quickly.

“Ah, it’s nothin’ I’m just rambling. Anyways it really is late— we should sleep. The tournament starts early tomorrow morning.”

Shinsuke watches Aran turn to his side and mumble “‘Night Shin,” watches the steam curl up from his cup, thinks of the warm red glow of an ember burning through a stick of incense, a candle flickering in gentle breeze. Thinks, holy. Thinks that life under Asago’s baby blue sky could be missing something after all.

Thinks... he should probably get some rest before that particular thought can get too far out of hand.

The sky is only a few shades lighter than night when Aran’s alarm goes off. Opening his eyes, he offers a brief curse to the universe for sticking one Miya Atsumu in his life, then extends the curse to himself for actually befriending the guy and enjoying his company. He groans— loudly, then quietly when he remembers he’s not alone in his apartment.

Careful not to make any more noise, he stumbles off of the floor. His back protests at having spent the night with just a few blankets for protection, but Aran muscles through it. He certainly isn’t going to admit as much to Shinsuke.

He finishes brushing his teeth, showering, and changing, then walks back into the main room and stops dead in his tracks.

Shinsuke is still fast asleep, which is pretty surprising already. It’s lighter out now, dawn breaking and starting to color the room gold. Shinsuke is usually up before now, but Aran supposes the trip from Kobe wore him out. What really makes him stop though, what makes him feel like his lungs are too big for his chest, is the way Shinsuke is curled on his side around the Ritz Cracker plushie the twins got him last year. He’s hugging it to his chest, has his face buried in the plushie so just the top of his head is visible, the parts of his hair that are dyed white looking platinum blonde in the light.

Aran takes a deep breath then huffs a laugh. He considers taking a picture to send to the twins, but figures it would be in poor taste to tease Atsumu about his crush when he’s nursing a similar problem.

Deciding against bullying Atsumu for now, he instead heads to the kitchen, clicks the electric kettle on, and pulls out the box of green tea he bought for Shinsuke’s visit. He knows Shinsuke said last night that he brings his own tea bags with him on trips— which feels obvious in hindsight— but loose leaf tea tastes better anyways.

If you asked Aran when his feelings grew from the small crush that everyone on the volleyball club inevitably had on Shinsuke to the sensation he could hardly breathe around now, he wouldn’t be able to give you an exact answer. Somewhere between the 20th and 21st team meeting they lead together, or the 178th and 179th boba run, or the 554th and 555th walk home from school. Shinsuke was always the one talking about being built from the actions you took every day.

As he watches Shinsuke doze now, Aran can’t say he regrets the end result all that time spent together brought him to, even if the end of this week brings the distance between Kobe and Nagoya, the difference between a college student who wants to become a rice farmer, and a professional volleyball player at the beginning of his career.

He fills a cup and a thermos with the tea, leaves the cup on the kitchen table, grabs the thermos and heads out to watch the Inarizaki boys volleyball club practice.

Aran’s look of betrayal when he steps out of the bathroom post-shower to see Shinsuke stretching out on the floor is almost enough to make Shinsuke feel sheepish. Almost.

“You tricked me,” Aran accuses.

Shinsuke blinks up at him. “I did no such thing.”

“Yes! You did! You knew I’d be distracted by talking about the tournament and used that to take first shower and steal the floor! I can’t believe you’d use my love for volleyball like this...”

Shinsuke bends to touch his toes in order to hide his laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me!”

“‘m not laughin’!”

Aran crosses his arms and glares.

“Okay, fine. I‘m laughin’ a little bit. You’re cute when you’re flustered like this,” Shinsuke says, sitting back up. Then thinks, _that was maybe too much._

Aran snaps his mouth shut and coughs. Yup, definitely too much.

“It's not my fault you were distracted by volleyball. You can’t blame me for takin’ advantage of the situation. Besides, you looked so happy talkin’ about the tournament, I didn’t wanna interrupt.”

Aran narrows his eyes. “You’re a menace, Shin.”

Shinsuke can’t deny it.

“Ya forgot to make yourself tea by the way,” Aran notes, walking to the tiny kitchen.

So he did. “I know you wouldn’t disrupt my bedtime routine out of spite.”

“God knows why…” Aran grumbles as he pulls out two cups and flicks on the electric kettle.

Shinsuke finishes his nightly stretches with the child’s pose, and rises to accept a hot cup of tea from Aran. He sits on his heels and sips, satisfied, as Aran settles down, legs crossed, on his bed.

“They’ll win tomorrow against Karasuno,” Shinsuke says after a moment.

Aran nods. “Normally I’d say there’s always a random chance when it comes to volleyball but… I think you’re right. They will. The twins are somehow even scarier this year. I’d be shocked if that first-year duo from Karasuno kept up.”

“Suna and Riseki have gotten much better at spiking in the last year. And that new libero is pretty great too.”

“I’m lookin’ forward to watching the game tomorrow— they’re exciting to watch play, aren’t they?”

Shinsuke smiles back. “They are.” The twins have made good on their promise to be kouhai Shinsuke could brag about.

“You know, it’s funny. I thought I’d be at least a little bit bitter, or regretful,” Aran chuckles, “Seeing them get farther this year. But I’m not— I’m really proud of them.”

Everyone took their loss to Karasuno at last year’s Spring Interhigh hard, but Shinsuke thinks it hit Aran the hardest. He had said to Shinsuke, later when they had gotten back at the hotel, something about one of the top five aces in the country letting his team get knocked out in the first round. In response, Shinsuke had pointed out, voice flat, that Karasuno also took out arguably the best ace in the country in their qualifying tournament. After a brief pause, during which Shinsuke had wondered if he was maybe being too straightforward, Aran had burst out laughing, even as he kept rubbing at his eyes to stop the tears.

“I’m glad,” Shinsuke replies, “You should be, a lot of this is thanks to you— the whole team looks up to you, takes after you even. Especially the twins.”

Aran ducks his head at this, rubs his chest. “That’s an exaggeration. You inspired ‘em plenty too.”

“That’s just ‘cause everyone was scared of me.”

Aran laughs at this, and it strikes Shinsuke how video calls just don’t do Aran’s laugh justice. The two of them call pretty regularly, at least once a week, but the small grainy screen can’t capture this: the way Aran’s eyes nearly scrunch closed, the easy tilt of his head, the way his shoulders shake with it.

“Fine, maybe they were scared of you,” Aran grants. And then, “But I’m not scared of you, and you make me better too.”

Shinsuke looks down at his cup at this, feels his heart tremble in that same flicker it’s been doing at least once an hour since he got to Nagoya.

He reminds himself: in two nights he’ll be heading back to Kobe, in two years he’ll be moving to Asago to take over his grandmother’s farm. In two years, Aran will still be playing volleyball— in Nagoya or any other city where his career takes him.

He considers: Aran is his best friend, they call at least once a week and have never felt closer despite the distance. Aran doesn’t treat Shinsuke like he’s some kind of idol. Aran is funny, reliable, kind. Aran maybe, possibly, (probably) feels the same way.

He considers: Aran’s smile lights lanterns in him.

He says: “Thank you. Anyways, it’s getting late— we should go to sleep.”

Aran wakes to Shinsuke shaking his arm.

“Come on, we’re going to be late soon,” Shinsuke says, sounding much less disapproving than he did when he was captain.

Aran opens his eyes, and swears his bleary gaze catches Shinsuke smiling at him, but when he blinks again to wipe the sleep away Shinsuke is turning around.

“I’ll make us tea,” he says.

Brain still asleep, Aran just nods and stumbles into the bathroom. As he slowly gains awareness while brushing his teeth, he runs through his memories of the past day: watching Atsumu and the team get bullied by the band, seeing Inarizaki play some amazing volleyball even with the band’s interference, getting dinner with Shinsuke after the tournament at a small Izakaya near the stadium, Shinsuke brushing close during the walk back to his apartment, Shinsuke bantering with him before going to bed, Shinsuke calling him cute.

Is Shinsuke flirting? Calling someone cute is definitely flirting.

Aran sighs, spits into the sink, squints at his reflection.

It’s not like he doesn’t know where he stands on this. It’s not even like he doesn’t know where Shinsuke stands. The question lies in the steps between them, whether or not they both think they’re steps worth taking.

Aran hasn’t really decided on his own answer, which is why he hasn’t pushed the issue, looked for clarity.

But the more time he spends walking through the corridors of the Nagoya General Civic Gymnasium with Shinsuke at his side, listening to his quiet even cadence commentate matches, watching him go step by step through his nighttime rituals, the more Aran wants to throw caution to the wind, skip a few steps, jump to the ending.

He gargles, counts to twenty (a habit Shinsuke instilled), and spits. Tells his protesting heart to stop its Atsumu impression and be patient.

Trust the process, Aran had learned while playing volleyball with Shinsuke— the lesson hasn’t let him down yet.

It’s well past their normal bedtime by the time they finish dinner. Shinsuke sets the last plate from dinner on the drying rack and Aran sticks the leftover chicken and veggie stir fry in the fridge at the exact same moment. They lock eyes across the room and Shinsuke prepares to dive for the blankets on the floor. He was marginally better at it than Aran in high school, though Aran has certainly improved in his time in the V.League already.

“Shin,” Aran warns, crouching into a springing position himself.

Then, his phone goes off.

Shinsuke takes the advantage— no one’s ever accused him of being merciful— and leaps to the floor, thankful that the blankets are thick enough to save his knees from bruising in the place of knee-pads.

“Shin!” Aran whines, then, “Wait no sorry I’m just talking to—Atsumu?”

At this, Shinsuke’s laugh slips off his face and he sits up. He raises an eyebrow at Aran, who shrugs in response.

“No, no it’s fine you weren’t interruptin’ anything.”

Shinsuke, privately, pettily, disagrees.

“We were just gonna go to bed,” Aran settles down on the blankets beside Shinsuke, “No seriously Atsumu it’s fine. What’s up?”

“Ah, yeah I did watch round four. Uh…”

Ah, so that’s what this is about. Shinsuke shouldn’t be surprised. Round four had been a pretty poor showing on Inarizaki’s part with the twins completely out of sync, barely pulling a win through the strength of the rest of the team. Shinsuke and Aran had talked about it over dinner, compared notes on their interactions with the twins over the past few days and figured that the twins had been overdue for a blowout fight, especially since it seemed like they hadn’t really talked about Osamu quitting volleyball in the past year. The timing, however, left a lot to be desired.

Atsumu’s starting to talk loudly enough that Shinsuke can make out what he’s saying, which is pretty normal. Volume control is generally a foreign concept for Atsumu, on and off the phone.

“...I mean okay my sets….shaky but ‘Samu also played like a scrub he was barely fuckin’ jumping and…”

Shinsuke opens his texts with Osamu and holds his phone up for Aran to see, tilting his head.

The corner of Aran’s mouth ticks up and he nods. “Thank you,” he mouths. Then, to Atsumu, “Wait, wait, slow down. So you argued afterwards right? About what?”

Shinsuke huffs a laugh and texts Osamu: “Are you and Atsumu okay?”

They pass the next half hour like this— Aran talking to Atsumu and Shinsuke texting Osamu, trading fond glances and exchanging snippets of information all the while. It feels like high school again, trying to manage the volatile and otherworldly force that is the Miya twins. It feels like nothing has changed, even though they’re both nineteen now and on the brink of the rest of their lives. Even though they’ll be hours apart in just a day.

Shinsuke wraps up his conversation with Osamu while Aran is still talking to Atsumu, closing out with a: “Atsumu cares too much about volleyball to let this trip him up. Give it time, he’ll figure it out.”

It’s well past midnight at this point, which means they should absolutely get to bed if they’re going to be up early enough to watch Inarizaki in semifinals and (hopefully) finals tomorrow.

Yawning, Shinsuke lays down on the blankets, body curved around Aran’s criss-crossed legs. Aran’s looking absently at the wilting violets on his dinner table, a fond smile on his face as he listens to Atsumu. For all his griping about playing the straight man to the twins’ antics, they are some of his closest friends. The relaxed set of his brows, the small curve to his lips, even something about the way the lights of the apartment brush across his cheek, it all reminds Shinsuke of the last time he visited Aran’s home, about a week before graduation. Aran looks this kind of relaxed around his younger sister and parents too. He always looks like this around Shinsuke too.

Shinsuke watches Aran talk, and doesn’t remember falling asleep.

Shinsuke is smiling at him, half under the covers, eyes still half lidded with sleep. Aran nearly swallows his tongue.

He _should_ have swallowed his damn pride and taken the bed last night, if only for the sake of his cardiovascular health. Instead, he got off the phone with Atsumu, noticed Shinsuke dozing beside him, and felt equal parts adoring and exasperated. It was unintentional, but of course Shinsuke would end up using even Aran’s own feelings to try and swipe the floor— Mr. No Gaps indeed. Not to be bested, he had gotten the blanket from the bed to toss over his friend, then snuggled under the covers on the floor himself. A mistake, in hindsight.

“G’mornin’” Shinsuke rumbles. His normal voice is already deeper than Aran’s own in ways that make Aran’s cheeks heat, and now its rasps with sleep.

Aran blinks stupidly, then nods, then remembers how to open his mouth. “Mornin’” he mumbles back. Shinsuke’s hair is falling over his eyes. Aran wants to brush it away.

“Your hair's gettin’ long,” he says instead.

Shinsuke laughs and reaches up to pull at his bangs. “Is it? Guess I hadn’t noticed.”

Aran probably wouldn’t have either, if they still saw each other in person every day. “It looks good like this,” Aran says. Then thinks: _who says something like that first thing in the morning? What’s wrong with you?_

But Shinsuke just laughs again, “Thank you.”

And Aran thinks that this— the daily texting, the weekly calls, the trips home to Hyogo, the occasional visit to Nagoya— isn’t so bad. Aran thinks he could do this for many years to come.

With a yawn, Shinsuke gets up out of bed and pads to the kitchen, saying something about “can’t believe you chose to sleep on the floor, the bed was totally open Aran.”

Aran quirks his lips and follows.

By the time Shinsuke and Aran escape from Inarizaki’s post-tournament team dinner and get back to the apartment, Shinsuke is so tired he forgets to take first shower so he can sleep on the floor.

“What time is your train tomorrow?” Aran asks him when Shinsuke walks out of the shower, “Trying to figure out if I can see you off at the station before heading to practice.”

Aran is wearing an Inarizaki t-shirt and faded pajama pants with little cartoon characters on them. They’re too small, leaving Aran’s ankles fully exposed as he sits criss-crossed on the floor.

“The train is at 10:15,” Shinsuke says, leaning against the dinner table and picking up the lukewarm tea left out for him.

“Aww, damn practice starts at 9:30 tomorrow. Alright I guess we’ll say our goodbyes here then.”

Urgency is a foreign feeling for Shinsuke. Perhaps that’s why he hesitates to blame it for the sudden lurch his heart does at hearing the word “goodbye”.

It doesn’t make sense. His chest aches but the rest of his body is so at ease. They live hours away from each other but Shinsuke never feels far away. Their lives will take them in different directions, their routines should be so difficult to mesh together, but the last four days passed like they were living the same life. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about this week, about _this_ has.

Shinsuke puts his empty cup in the sink, flicks the lights off, pulls the covers off the bed, hesitates.

But then, Aran is always the one telling him that you don’t need a reason to feel something, to want something.

“Aran, we can share.” Shinsuke says, pushing the blanket aside and patting the bed next to him.

Aran freezes in the dark. Nagoya’s lights, filtered through the half-closed curtains, make an abstraction of his face. Shinsuke can see the streak of his cheekbone, the curve of his temple, the swell of his lower lip, all gold against the purple of the night. Aran swallows, and it looks like another flash of gold, this one tracing his throat. Shinsuke wants to follow it with his fingertips.

“Shin. Are… what are you—”

“We both know how uncomfortable that floor is at this point.”

“Ah right, yeah I mean it is a little but I don’t mind—”

“—and,” Shinsuke adds before Aran can convince himself this isn’t what they both know it is, “And, I want to.”

“Yeah,” Aran says, voice faint, “yeah, sure.”

Shinsuke slips under the covers, facing the window, back towards Aran. He feels the bed shift a moment later as Aran lies down beside him.

“So,” Shinsuke says after a moment, “Do you wanna spoon?”

Aran chokes, and sputters, “Shin! I—god, I should have known your never getting nervous would extend to this too.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, but give my heartrate a chance to settle first!” Shinsuke can picture Aran rolling his eyes.

Shinsuke smiles, satisfied, and reaches back to find Aran’s hand. Pulls it up to make space and snuggles back against Aran. Shinsuke can feel the way Aran’s breath freezes in his chest, the way his pulse races in his palm.

Aran slowly, carefully, settles his hand against Shinsuke’s hip, brushes his thumb over the edge of Shinsuke’s thin t-shirt.

The touch is a shot of adrenaline. Shinsuke wasn’t nervous before, but now he feels brave. Is this what the twins feel like all the time? No wonder they’re always doing reckless shit.

Shinsuke puts his hand on top of Aran’s, folds their fingers together, lifts it to his lips. He presses a kiss to Aran’s palm.

He feels Aran’s gasp against the back of his neck.

“Shin…” Aran whispers.

Shinsuke kisses his hand again, just in case the first one wasn’t clear enough, just because he wants to feel Aran’s breath on his neck again, just because he can.

Aran does gasp again, shifts closer, presses his forehead against Shinsuke’s shoulder.

“Shin,” Aran repeats, accompanied by a disbelieving laugh this time.

“I like you,” Shinsuke says, which gets another laugh out of Aran.

“And here I was thinkin’ you were playin’ with my fragile heart,” Aran chuckles. Shinsuke feels the vibration of it against his ear and his blood is jumping like sparklers.

“I can do both,” Shinsuke replies, to hear Aran laugh again.

He does. Then he turns his hand around to lace their fingers together properly and pulls their hands over Shinsuke’s shoulder. His lips brush Shinsuke’s knuckles.

“We should probably go to bed if you wanna make your train tomorrow,” Aran mumbles.

“Mm, yeah. We should probably take some time to talk in the mornin’ too,” Kita hums. Then, “How confident are you in your alarm?”

Aran wakes up to Shinsuke curled up against his chest.

So last night wasn’t a fever dream then. Cool.

Cool cool cool.

Aran knows this isn’t how bodies work, but he’s worried that his erratic heartbeat is going to wake Shinsuke up. He’s also worried about his heartbeat in general— is it supposed to be jumping like this? Apparently, a sudden shot of giddy happiness, nerves, disbelief, shock, relief, and who knows what else, first thing in the morning, will do that to a person.

It seems like Aran’s heartbeat isn’t as vocal as he thinks it is. Shinsuke is still asleep, his hands curled into loose fists, pressed between their bodies. His hair looks a deeper blonde in the early morning light, falling over his eyebrows and lessening some of the sternness in his face. Aran’s got one arm wrapped around his waist, the other trapped beneath his body— he can’t feel that hand at all, but doesn’t want to break the moment and move it just yet.

As the sun rises and Shinsuke’s hair shifts to lighter and lighter shades, Aran feels his pulse calm. In two hours, Aran will head to Hoshizaki Gym for practice. In three hours, Shinsuke will board a train to Kobe. The future, in all its wonderful and terrifying and now expanded combinations, will come.

But first, brushing teeth, gargling mouthwash for twenty seconds, showering, and eating breakfast.

Aran smiles, brushes Shinsuke’s bangs away from his forehead. Shinsuke’s nose scrunches from the touch, but he doesn’t stir otherwise.

Carefully, Aran pulls his arm out from under Shinsuke’s waist and slips out of bed. Makes two cups of tea.

**Author's Note:**

> okay i learned after writing FAITH/FULL that the red falcons are based on a team that's....also based in osaka lol so the premise of this fic doesn't really work but oh well it's not confirmed in the manga where they're from and also i do what i want 
> 
> other relevant FAITH/FULL context: aran and kita meet up with the twins at a nearby inari shrine before the first day of the tournament (so before the first night of this fic). the morning of the first day of the tournament, aran agrees to supervise inarizaki's practice (first morning of this fic). on the second day of the tournament (third night of this fic) the twins have a fight. atsumu calls aran for support & kita texts osamu to check in on him. 
> 
> ANYWAYS love aran and kita a lot & they deserve more content!! hope this fic did them justice! 
> 
> comments are so so appreciated <3
> 
> also come yell w/ me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/actuallyatsumu) about inarizaki if u want


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